


when am i gonna lose you?

by LilyEllison



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Engagement, F/M, Future Fic, Marriage Proposal, Post-Season/Series 03, but also a lot of reverence for catholicism, i can't believe there's not an auto-fill karen & maggie tag yet!, some irreverence for catholicism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyEllison/pseuds/LilyEllison
Summary: "Are you trying to get a proposal out of me, Ms. Page?" Matt teased. His voice dropped lower. "You know it’s waiting whenever you want it."Karen contemplates marriage in a post-canon future.





	when am i gonna lose you?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to irelandhoneybee and Quietshade for their encouragement. Title from the [Local Natives song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWwytT5JAdM), which I played a ton this summer.

Karen smiled when she heard the apartment door open. Matt was home.

He had actually gotten up in time for Sunday Mass for the first time in weeks. She was glad. He had assured her that his attendance had been sporadic for years and had nothing to do with the fact that she wasn’t religious. But she still wondered if he would go more often if there wasn't another warm, snuggly body in bed with him on Sundays.

In the last few days, he had been struggling with something — a moral quandary that he couldn’t quite articulate to her when he tried. She'd hoped the ritual of the church service and perhaps some facetime with Sister Maggie would help set him to rights.

She twisted around to look at him from her perch on the couch. He definitely seemed lighter than before. Then again, she might not be the best judge of that — she'd still been bleary-eyed from a late night when he left. Two and a half cups of coffee later, though, she was blazing through some long-neglected paperwork while she waited for him.

"Hey, you," she said affectionately, glad to have an excuse to be done with work for the day.

He cut an impressive figure in his Sunday best. But looking at him all pressed and clean and shining — while she sat cross-legged with her laptop, wearing a t-shirt, slightly coffee-stained sweats and white socks — roused the devil in her. She wanted very badly to rumple him up.

He left his glasses and cane on the shelf and dropped a kiss on her hair before sitting down next to her.

"And how is our Lord and Savior this morning?" she asked brightly.

Matt just laughed. She put her laptop aside and scooted closer to him.

"Did you confess all your sins?" she asked in a low voice, kissing his neck just below his jawline.

Matt’s head tilted back, which she took as an invitation. "Not today," he said.

"But you still do that a lot, right?" She ran her fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

"Sometimes," he breathed, distracted by her touch.

She put one knee on the far side of his thighs, bringing herself firmly into his lap. His hands immediately found her hips.

She kissed him thoroughly, then asked, "Do you ever talk about us?"

"Us?" he echoed, chasing her lips.

"We are living in sin, aren’t we?"

His sudden smile was like the sun. "Are you trying to get a proposal out of me, Ms. Page?" he teased. His voice dropped lower. "You know it’s waiting whenever you want it."

She bit her lip. It wasn’t yet a point of contention between them, but she knew it might be soon, if she couldn’t cut through the knot of fear she felt in her gut when she thought about it. He’d broached the topic when they decided to move in together and ever since, Karen had been working through all the toxic shit it brought up for her — their parents’ mistakes, their own mistakes, the walls she’d carefully guarded for years. She loved Matt more than anything, but wasn’t _family_ just a synonym for _disaster_? She'd actually found herself — of all things — _praying_ about it, usually on the nights when she couldn't sleep as she waited for Matt to come home. Praying to some unnameable god — praying to love itself, maybe.

But she didn't say any of that. She just said, "I know" in a quiet voice and kissed him with her whole body.

His hands wandered up her back to the very spot between her shoulder blades where all the anxiety had burrowed at his words. He dug his fingers in gently, soothing it away, and she moaned softly.

"So is it just like on TV?" she asked near his ear, trying to get her seduction back on track. "You say, 'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned?'"

Matt swallowed hard, his fingers biting into her hips. He stiffened a little. "If you're thinking of converting, we could have a real conversation about this. But if you're just..."

"Tempting you?" she interjected, tracing her fingertip over his lip.

"Yes," he sighed. His tongue followed the trail of her touch. "Then there's no need to..."

She leaned in and kissed him wetly. "I guess I'm just curious," she said softly when she pulled back. "I remember, sitting in church when I was younger, I always thought about exactly the things I shouldn't be thinking about...as if just being there dared me to be naughty." She scratched her nails softly through his beard. "Does that ever happen to you?"

"Karen," he groaned, his voice strained.

Then he used his considerable strength to stand up and carry her into the bedroom.

* * *

The next day, she waited until they were both ready to leave for the office. She put her coffee cup in the sink and turned to him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said. “I think I wasn’t very nice when you came home.”

“What?” Matt said, surprised. He put his arms around her and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I seem to recall you being _very_ nice.”

She snuggled in close. She loved the feeling of solace she got in his arms. It was something that had been there from the very beginning and had never changed.

“I just need you to know that I respect your beliefs. Even if I don’t share them, they are very much part of what I love about you.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “I know, love,” he said gently. “Please don’t worry.”

But she was worried. She was worried about so much. That somehow this would all come crashing down. That one day he would die protecting her. That, either way, he would waste his life on her.

She felt an ache in the back of her throat.

Matt held her tighter and she laid her head on his shoulder.

“This is about what I said, isn’t it?" he murmured. "I shouldn’t have brought it up again. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“No,” she said. “Please don’t apologize.” She lifted her head up to look at his face. “God, Matt, all you’re doing is telling me that you want to spend your life with me. That’s beautiful. I don’t want you to say you’re sorry for that.”

“All right, but it’s also OK not to be sure.” His tongue moved between his lips. “I know a life with me is a lot to sign up for. Wondering if I'll come home every night, the injuries, all of it. I can’t offer you something normal.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want normal. And I’m on board with all of it. You know that. I’m just not sure about...some of the stuff that comes along with getting married.”

“Are you afraid you’d feel trapped? I’m pretty tied to this place. Maybe you don’t want to be stuck in Hell’s Kitchen. Like...your mom and the diner?”

“I’m more concerned that _you_ would feel trapped,” she said, but she cut him off before he could contradict her. “It’s just...I don’t know.”

He waited patiently, but she knew she’d never come up with the words to make him understand. This wasn’t something Matt could fix. She knew he loved her, and he valued her life more than his own. And he’d never recognize that as the problem it was.

“It’s a big step,” she said finally, completely inadequately.

“It is,” he agreed. “But...I know I want to still be with you when I’m too old to put on the mask. I want to have a family with you." He pulled away so he could bring his hands to her face. "I want all of it, but only if it's with you. So whatever you decide is OK.”

She kissed him, over and over and over, until she knew they would be late.

"I'm thinking about it," she said before they finally let go of each other and headed into the office. "I promise."

* * *

A few days later, she ended up in the same place that had called to him. Clinton Church.

She was in the kitchen, staring down into the cup of tea Sister Maggie had made for her. Karen chatted half-heartedly about the usual kinds of things, work and the invitation she had gotten to Marci’s baby shower. Then Karen found her courage.

“Does it bother you that I’m not Catholic?” she asked.

Maggie gave her an unreadable look.

“Just...I’m sure you hoped that Matt would settle down with someone who—“

She stopped talking as Maggie’s face lit up like a bank of votive candles. Maggie quickly schooled her expression, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to hide a smile. She cleared her throat. “He...he asked you to marry him?”

Clearly, it was something they had talked about, even if only in that between-the-lines way they had.

“Oh, no,” Karen corrected quickly. “I mean, not officially. We’ve talked about it, but not...” She trailed off, flustered.

Maggie looked at her seriously. “Catholic or not, there is no one who would make Matthew happier. That’s the most any mother could hope for, and much more than someone like me could dream of.”

Karen managed a wavery smile. “He...makes me happy, too. But I...” Her face crumpled and she brought her hand to her forehead, covering her eyes.

“What is it?” Maggie asked delicately.

Karen took a few deep breaths —_ in, in, out, out, out_ — before raising her head again. “If you’ve done something...something you can never make up for...is it wrong to have something this good in your life?"

Maggie sighed, recognition dawning in her eyes. "I fear that any answer I give you now will sound self-serving. Both on my own behalf and Matthew's,” she said. “But I have to ask — even without taking this next step, don't you already have this good thing in your life?"

“Getting married... it feels like saying out loud that I deserve this. Telling the whole world.” Karen swallowed back the tears that were gathering. “And what right do I have to be so happy when...when people are dead because of me?”

“And how many people are alive because of you?” Maggie asked sharply. When Karen didn’t speak, Maggie went on, feeling out her words carefully. “Matthew feels he has a calling. You might not use the same word, but you seem to feel a similar drive?”

Karen nodded, biting her lip.

“If you believe there is some kind of design, couldn’t it be that your very purpose is to do this work together? To sustain each other? From what you’ve both said, it appears you were drawn into each other’s lives at the very time when you first began heeding this...this urge to work in service of others.”

“Matt believed in me,” Karen said softly. “It gave me the strength to keep taking the hard road. Not to run away.” She looked down at the table. “But even then it wasn't what I thought it was. He believed me because my heartbeat told him the truth.”

“So you think the fact that you met the very man who was equipped to believe you, exactly when you needed him, was somehow cheapened? Because his belief wasn't based on blind faith?” Maggie said dryly. “And between the two of us, you're the one who is skeptical of religion?”

Karen smiled at her own expense. “No,” she clarified. “Meeting Matt...it was a gift.”

“Well, I can't say I've heard too many kind things said of people who open their gifts and then return them.”

Karen laughed a little, but then a wave of pain hit hard. “I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want him to die because of me,” she whispered in a rush, tears blurring her vision.

“Oh, my dear,” Maggie took Karen’s hand in both of hers. “Even if you left him tomorrow...” She shook her head. “He’d go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. You can’t change who he is, or what you mean to him, whether or not you marry him.”

* * *

That night, Karen couldn’t even pretend to try to sleep. She set aside the book she was staring at after the words refused to form sentences, instead fiddling with her necklace and offering up another prayer to love. Hoping for a measure of strength in return.

Talking to Maggie had helped her sort out the tangle of thoughts and emotions she’d been drowning in. She felt immensely better, but at the same time strangely worse. Because she was right on the brink, and she knew it.

She picked up her cell phone from the bedside table and scrolled through her contacts. She stared at his name spelled out in black: Paxton Page. It was so formal, and she felt like it reflected exactly what they were now: strangers who happened to share the same last name and a spotty call history.

He used to be listed under “Home” in her phone. But when she’d moved in with Matt, she’d changed it so that Home called the landline they still had in the apartment in case of emergencies. Matt lost, broke or just ignored his cell often enough that it came in handy more than she’d thought it would.

For a second, she thought about actually calling her dad, about reaching through the distance. But it was late, and talking to him always made her feel crappy anyway.

She had a new Home, right here.

It was hard to think that she might get married without her father even showing up to see it. Karen knew Matt’s comfort with the idea of starting a family was at least partially due to his renewed relationship with Maggie. They were slowly healing some of the wounds of the past, and she was jealous of that.

But, at the same time, her relationship with Maggie was its own blessing. And she had other people in her life who wanted her to be happy. Hell, if she decided she needed a certified Dad™ to walk her down the aisle, well, Foggy would be father to a lucky baby very soon.

The image of a beaming Foggy filled her head and she gave into it, letting more images come. She let herself imagine holding Matt’s hands while wearing a white dress, their close friends gathered around. She let herself imagine holding a squirmy little bundle while Matt put his arm around her...And her heart nearly jumped out of her chest with longing.

Maggie was right. She couldn’t change who Matt was, or how he felt about her, even if she didn’t think she deserved it. And she couldn’t control when death would come for him. But she could try to give him the life he wanted. The life that, deep down, she wanted just as much.

And now that she knew, she had to tell him.

She jumped out of bed and threw on a sweatshirt as she raced to the roof access stairs. It was raining lightly as she stepped outside, but she’d never minded the rain. She knew that if Matt was nearby and not actively Daredeviling, he’d come home to her if she waited there.

She got more and more drenched over the next several minutes, but all at once he appeared.

“Are you OK?” he asked, reaching out to grip her upper arms.

“No,” she said, “but I will be. I just...Matt, I’m ready.”

“You are?” He sounded breathless with excitement. "What...what changed?"

“I guess I just realized we want the same things."

He gave her a crooked smile from under the mask. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” And then he was kissing her and holding her so tightly she wasn’t sure her feet were actually touching the ground. When he let her go, he immediately got on one knee.

She laughed, taken aback and delighted that he wasn’t going to wait another second.

“Karen,” he said, taking her hand. The sensation seemed to surprise him — he was still wearing his gloves. He shook his head with a tiny smirk before taking them off. He pulled the mask off too, baring his face to the rain and to her. Then he reached for her hand and started again.

“I...I never thought a love like this would be possible for me. I never thought there would ever be anyone like you out there to find. I’m so incredibly grateful that we’re here, today, together. And I want to tell you how much I love you every day for as long as I live,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Karen Page, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, almost before he could finish. Her hot tears were mingling with the chill rain, her throat choked up with emotion, as she echoed, “Matt, yes.”

He pressed his lips to her hand and she caressed his cheek as he got back to his feet. “I love you,” she said and she kissed him like she was never going to get another chance.

“Your ring is inside,” he said with a smile when they finally broke apart. “C’mon.” He led her down the stairs and through the apartment. They were dripping everywhere but neither of them cared.

He took a small box from his dad’s chest in the closet and handed it to her.

“Foggy helped me,” he said as she opened it. She brought her hand to her mouth, overcome by what she saw inside. “It’s supposed to match your mom’s necklace.”

“It’s perfect,” she whispered.

“I know it’s not traditional...but neither are we. And you can always just tell people your fiancé is blind,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“I love it,” she said.

He grinned. He felt carefully for the ring and plucked it out of the box. She held her left hand out to him and he slid the cool band over her finger. It sparkled like a star in the low light.

“I know that family has been...complicated...for both of us. But I thought this could be a symbol. That we’ll cherish the best parts of what we had and we’ll learn from the rest.”

“_Matt_,” she said, pulling him close. Her kisses were full of promises of many more kisses to come.

“You really thought about this,” she said softly.

“I had some time,” he answered with a smile.

“You knew I’d say yes eventually?”

“I hoped.”


End file.
